


One Last Day With Your Beloved

by missalline



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e17-e18 The End of Time, F/M, Love, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missalline/pseuds/missalline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Which day would you choose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Day With Your Beloved

**Author's Note:**

> So instead of writing my fifteen page paper that's due tomorrow, this happened. I hope you like it.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He really shouldn’t be doing this. He’d seen her one last time. He’d said his goodbye. He’d picked a time when she wouldn’t know him for a reason.

He’d picked each time and place for a reason. 

Donna he just wanted to be happy. And in giving her a gift he’d given one to her mother and Wilf as well.

 

He asked the TARDIS to take him to when Martha needed him, and ended up helping Mickey, too.

He’d gone to the future for Sarah Jane. He had caused her so much grief and just wanted to find one instance where he could prevent it. So he looked at news reports and had found the obituary for one Luke Smith, who and been killed just outside his mother’s house when was hit by a car. So the Doctor went and changed it.

The incident with the 456 was a fixed event. He couldn’t change it, no matter how much he might want to. It was clouded, too. That meant that there was no way for him to well what the specific important event was. So instead of saving Ianto or Steven, he gave Jack a note with other man’s name. But that wasn’t what it really was. He knew someone else wouldn’t make Jack’s loss any less; the real reason was to let Jack know that he wasn’t alone.

And then he’d gone to see Rose. And he had to be so careful. She was perceptive, his Rose, so he had to pick a time when she wouldn’t know him, when his appearance out of her time stream wouldn’t accidentally change anything. He didn’t actually pick a specific date, just made sure to land before he’d grabbed her hand in a shop. And then she told him the date, and he remembered a passing comment she had made to his ninth self.

And he’d told her she would have a really great year.

And then he’d left. Back to the TARDIS. Alone. _And he couldn’t stand it_. He knew it didn’t really make sense, but he couldn’t let the last time he saw her be a time when she didn’t know him. Didn’t love him. (And he thought back to poor professor Song, whishing he could have changed it for her.)

So he went to the market where she’d gotten her mother the weather-telling alien tech. He had left her alone for a good stretch of time there, knowing that she could take care of herself and that she would be bored out of her mind while he dug for parts in the piles of vendors’ stalls. He was careful about where he landed, which route he took as he walked through the aisles. And as he walked a new memory formed.

(When he found Rose later, his bigger-on-the-inside pockets carrying parts galore, and maybe a gift or two for her, he’d swung her about in his arms, exclaiming that he hadn’t seen her for hours.

“But it’s only been about half an…” she’d said, trailing off as her eyes showed she’d had some realization, “Wow,” she laughed, her countenance suddenly shifting, “Time really does fly, huh?”)

So he found her, and he sat with her, and they had a cuppa of alien tea while chatting about the weather and the planet and where they’d go next. And when he knew he couldn’t hold fight any longer, he got up, kissed her forehead, and gave her hand a squeeze before walking, and then running, off.

His only wish was that he could have told her he loved her.


End file.
